


Stigma

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Boys do though, M/M, actually so do girls, boys make passes at boys who make passes, but I'd look twice at a cat with a monocle, girls make passes at anything wearing glasses, or at least I do, well maybe not everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girls don't make passes at boys who wear glasses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stigma

**Author's Note:**

> Let's not pretend that Brad wearing the same glasses as Chester isn't hot, okay?

Chester watches Brad lift the newspaper up toward his face then lower it away, squinting the whole time. He repeats this little routine before Chester snatches it away from him. "You're gonna go blind, idiot. Would you please get your eyes tested?"

Brad crosses his arms over his chest and stares at him defiantly, "I don't need to."

Chester just rolls his eyes and sighs. "Which bit were you trying to read?" Brad points at the article and Chester nods, starts reading it to him.

***

They're in between shows, travelling from A to B and Chester is bored. He pulls back the privacy curtain on Brad's bunk and pokes him in the side of the face. "You awake?"

"I am now, prick," Brad splutters, batting away the hand poking his cheek. "What do you want?"

Chester shrugs, "Wanna fuck?"

"I have a headache," Brad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically.

"Again? This is all the time, Brad, if you don't want to see me anymore just fucking say it," Chester snaps, bristling.

"No! I just really have a headache. Jesus, I feel like my head has been put in a fucking vice."

"Have you been reading?"

Brad shakes his head, eyes closed.

"Xbox?"

"Yeah, Brandon and I had a tournament and I kicked his ass. He was like...oh I can totally win this back..."

Chester holds up his hand and puts it over Brad's mouth. "Im already bored. My point is...you need your eyes tested. You need glasses."

"No," Brad turns his head and opens his eyes a little, "I don't."

Exasperated, Chester drops it. "Look," he says, "are you going to get me off, or not."

Brad considers it for a moment before nodding, uninterested. "Whatever," he says, "but you're not sleeping in here afterwards."

"Yes I am," Chester smirks as he climbs in, pulling the curtain across.

***  
A week later and Brad is wearing glasses on the edge of his nose and squinting at a magazine over the top of them. Chester watches him as he rolls a cigarette. "So, are those the kind of glasses you don't look through?"

"I am looking through them."

"You're not. Where did you get them? The prescription must be wrong."

Brad closes the magazine and puts it down, pushes the glasses up his nose. "The dollar store," he says.

"I...what...where do I even begin..."

"What? I couldn't find anywhere to give me an eye test. They're pretty cool, don't you think?"

"No!" Chester splutters. "No, I don't think. I had those fucking glasses when I was in high school in the eighties."

"And?"

"And I got bullied in high school for a reason. Because I looked like that," he says, gesturing at Brad who frowns.

"Fine. I'll get my fucking eyes tested. I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"We haven't slept with each other in almost a month because you always have a headache. I love you, but that shit is not gonna fly, okay?"

Brad gets up, "Well maybe we need to reevaluate our relationship, if that's all that matters to you." He stomps off and slams the back room door.

Chester sighs, picks up the magazine and shakes his head.

***

When he finally gets his eyes tested the optician is surprised he has been able to see the end of his own nose, his vision has gotten so poor. Chester smiles smugly the entire time and, when they're leaving, Brad says "I've never wanted to punch you quite as much as I do right now." He pushes his new glasses further up his nose.

Chester laughs, says, "Whatever, four eyes," and leads Brad back to the hotel.


End file.
